


The Sunset Sky Over Dragon Empire

by LittleLinor



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: (and boy is there a lot of it), Does 'Ren being a terrible flirt' need a relationship tag if he's hitting on them for fun, Everyone Heals A Little: The fic, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Multi, Post-Canon, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 21:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17231882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLinor/pseuds/LittleLinor
Summary: It's been months since the battle with Gyze, and it feels like everyone's gone on with their lives, except Luard himself.So, naturally, he gets sent out on a trip.





	The Sunset Sky Over Dragon Empire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aichi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aichi/gifts).



> Written for the RIDE THE SANTA secret santa exchange!
> 
> YOU WANTED LUARD CONTENT AND YOU WANTED IBUKI FRIENDSHIPS and I didn't know which to do until I had an epiphany. I hope you'll enjoy the results :3c
> 
> This fic is slightly AU. Most changes will be mentioned later in the fic more explicitely, but for now the two big ones are that 1) Messiah is still around and the bond between the worlds didn't get cut, and 2) instead of it being an asspulled 'oh actually turns out Kazuma could've worked all along I guess 8D how shocking right?', Kazuma being the one to be picked as Vessel was... because he's Luard's Vanguard (Chrono was a decoy, and their Plan B if Kazuma was unavailable: they thought his link to the Gate would make it easier for Gyze to cross over). And Gyze took control of him THROUGH Luard, essentially diffriding him after possessing Luard. Of course, this has some pretty strong consequences on their relationship.

“Luard, are you going to hide behind my door forever?”  
Luard scowled, caught red-handed, and opened the door to Morfessa's lab, definitely not shuffling his feet.  
“Your personality's improved, but they sure haven't fixed your hobbies,” she said, raising an eyebrow at him. “There wasn't even anything to eavesdrop _on_.”  
“I wasn't here to eavesdrop,” he huffed, tense with déjà-vu. “I just came to bring this back.”  
He waved a tome at her. She snapped her fingers and pointed it from his arms to her bookshelf, where it went to sort itself neatly back.  
“Thank you. But you could have had someone deliver it; that's not all you're here for, is it?”  
“… I don't know why I'm here,” he sighed. “That's why I wasn't sure whether to come in.”  
“Come for advice again, have you?”  
“No… yes… maybe?”  
She smirked, but he knew her well enough by now to see the gentleness in it. Well, as gentle as Morfessa could be. She had a very personal brand of kindness and it often involved pain.  
“What's bothering you so much that you're not being your usual workaholic self?” she asked.  
“… I don't know. I'm restless.” He paused. “It feels like I'm not doing enough.”  
“Not doing enough? Child, do any more and you'll need to turn back time just to make it all fit in a day.”  
“I'm doing a lot of work but am I really doing anything? Am I fixing anything? It doesn't feel right to just be here, doing stuff not that different from before, when I…”  
He trailed off. She rolled her eyes and walked closer to deliver a flick of her finger to his forehead.  
“You're overthinking it.”  
“Ouch—hey!”  
“Have you really learned nothing?”  
“I have! That's why it bothers me! I shouldn't just…”  
“No, you haven't learned anything at all, aside from a bit of well needed humility. But I do agree on one thing.”  
“… what?”  
“You're not getting anywhere staying cooped up in that lab. You need to broaden your horizons.”  
The déjà vu went from a creeping whisper to a yell as overpowering and obnoxious as Harri's voice.  
“No.”  
“It would do you good.”  
“No no no—Morfessa, you _know_ that's not a good idea!”  
“In fact, last time you got interrupted, so I should arrange for—”  
“ _Morfessa don't you dare!_ ”  
She raised a stern eyebrow at him. He shrunk back as if burned and deflated.  
“Remind me, Luard. Who's the senior wizard here?”  
“You are.”  
“Who owns this castle?”  
“You do.”  
“Who is _not on probation_?”  
“You are,” he grit through his teeth.  
She beamed.  
“Good! It's settled then. Figure out some arrangements by the end of the month or I will in your stead. Now be a good boy and get back to work; you have to deliver your prototype next week, don't you?”  
He sighed.  
“Yes Ma'am.”

 

“'Why don't you go on a trip', she says! 'It'll clear your head', she says!”  
Shiranui repressed a chuckle. Luard's tendency to rant might be exasperating to some, but he honestly found it cute.  
“Does she remember what happened _last time_ they sent me on a trip?” he continued to rant, magically turning a screw inside Shiranui's new prosthetic arm.  
“You were a different person then,” Shiranui said.  
Luard blushed.  
“I mean—thanks, that means a lot coming from you, but… I'm not so sure about that.”  
“I'm fairly confident in asserting that you won't go on a murderous rage this time.”  
“Please don't remind me,” he whispered, all but whimpering, and Shiranui relented, feeling bad for teasing him. Humour might be a way they both dealt with what had happened sometimes, but it was always hard to predict what would turn out to be too much.  
Relationships were as much of a work in progress as the political reconstruction his clan and the entire world were experiencing.  
“… I don't even know where to go,” Luard sighed after a moment of silence, gently prompting him to lift his arm. Shiranui did, and he carefully guided it, folding and unfolding the elbow, first horizontally then in other positions. “A lot of people aren't gonna be happy to see me. Most of United Sanctuary is just too full of bad memories, and I can't go to Dark Zone without risking running into some unsavoury characters.” He guided Shiranui's arm back down. “I come _here_ every month. Isn't that enough?”  
“You come for work, and keep your head in your books or helping me the entire time. It would do you good to take a break and do other things for once.”  
“… do I have a right to?”  
Shiranui turned to look at him, but he had already averted his eyes. His face, the turn of his chest, all was avoiding Shiranui's gaze, and yet, his hands stayed on the prosthetic arm, as if clinging to it.  
“… I mean,” he continued quietly, “what right do I have to have fun when…”  
He trailed off. Slowly, his fingers and lips tightened.  
“… tell me,” Shiranui said. “Will you punishing yourself bring back the lives that were lost?”  
“I—”  
“Will living in pain and isolation and restraining your own mind fill the gap that they left in their loved ones' lives?”  
Luard shook.  
“… no,” he breathed out. “But… but nothing I can do _will_! And having fun when they're dead is just…”  
He bit his lip, hiding his face and what Shiranui suspected were tears threatening to spill.  
Slowly, he moved his prosthetic arm out of Luard's grip, but instead of pulling it to himself, carefully encircled Luard's body and reached for his chin, delicately pulling it around and up to face him.  
Luard looked away, but did not resist.  
“No,” Shiranui said quietly. “It will not bring them back. Nothing you can do will. But neither will holding yourself back for the sake of showing how ashamed you are. Instead, you can build something else. You can be the best you that you could ever be, and fill those gaps with a new future. And you can participate in preventing further tragedy in the future. Isn't that what this is about? Isn't that why you're here? Answer me, Luard,” he said more firmly when Luard kept his eyes averted.  
Finally, Luard looked back at him, the tears finally falling.  
“… yes.”  
Shiranui let one of his artificial fingers brush against the side of Luard's face, claw and all.  
“This is merely an example. Discovering yourself, broadening your horizons, becoming a better and wiser person: this will profit everyone. Not just you, not just me or those you are trying to make amends to, but others too. Potentially the entire world. You have the lifespan to achieve it. _If_ you allow yourself to grow.” He released him. “Do not waste that chance for a show of remorse. Learn to deal with your guilt, and move on.”  
Luard brushed away his own tears with the back of his hand, sighing in a way that Shiranui thought looked like frustration at himself.  
“You make it sound so easy.”  
Shiranui chuckled.  
“Oh, it isn't. But it's because I struggle with it myself that I'm aware of the problem. These words aren't empty; they come from experience.”  
Luard stared at him, then finally nodded.  
Satisfied that he was actually listening, Shiranui pat his head once. It wasn't often that he caught him without the hat, after all.  
“… I don't know what to do,” Luard sighed.  
Shiranui leaned back, thinking.  
“… why don't you go to Earth.”  
“H-huh?”  
“You have loose ends there, don't you? Maybe going there will give you some closure.”  
Luard bit his lip, hesitating.  
“Don't you think it's about time you met your Vanguard?” Shiranui continued. “For real, this time. With both of you aware.”  
“I… I kind of _possessed him by force_ and let Gyze take over his body.”  
“And I did the same to his brother. Consciously, of my own will. You weren't even _aware_ when it happened.”  
“It doesn't make it any less traumatising for him.”  
“Shouldn't he be the one to decide how he feels about it?”  
Luard opened his mouth. Closed it.  
“… why does it always come back to this,” he grumbled, looking away again.  
Shiranui smiled.  
“Maybe you should get used to it.”

“So how do I even do that?” Luard asked several hours later, as they were ending their evening with a cup of tea.  
“Hm?”  
“Go to Earth. You mean Different World Riding, yes?”  
“Yes.”  
“Wasn't that Gear Chronicle's project? I really doubt they're going to just set me loose on Earth when I'm basically supposed to be on house arrest.”  
“It was, yes. But as you've seen yourself, the veil between worlds is thinner than we thought. You did not need any help reaching Kazuma the first time, did you?”  
Luard winced.  
“I had a _god's power_. I think that counts as help.”  
“Then another god's power is all you need.”  
Luard blinked.  
“… Messiah?”  
“An honest prayer to Messiah can be all it takes, yes. Well,” he amended, “it also requires an incredibly strong bond with your vanguard, and for your feelings to resonate together. You were able to cross over the first time because his turmoil was echoing yours, I believe.”  
“… poor kid,” Luard sighed, looking away. “Now I'm _really_ not sure I should do this.”  
“You may be able to give _him_ closure too,” Shiranui pointed out. “As long as you don't force your way in, there is no harm in asking.” He smiled. “The real question is whether you can find in yourself the humility to ask and face the possibility of rejection.”  
“I…” He trailed off, staring into his tea as if it could give him an answer. “… I guess you're right.” He sighed, and leaned his chin on the table. “How did you get so wise?”  
“… by making grave mistakes myself. And learning.”  
“I feel like I'm not learning at all.”  
“You are. It just takes a different shape. But what matters is that you continue to learn.”  
Luard looked up at him, a piercing gaze that felt like he was looking into Shiranui's very core. It was heavy with something Shiranui couldn't quite place, some kind of yearning and determination, and for a second, his breath came short.  
And then he looked away again.  
“… I'll try. When I get back. Maybe.”  
“I wish you luck. Now, how are you liking this tea? I think I've mastered it.”  
Luard chuckled.  
“You really like your tea, huh?”  
“Just one of the little things I first took the time to really appreciate on Earth. Now drink before it cools.”

 

The day after he got back to the castle, Luard locked himself up in his lab with instructions not to bother him, wrote a letter to explain the situation to Morfessa if she decided to investigate and came into the room (he had no doubt that she could get that door open if she actually wanted it), and sat on his bed.  
An honest prayer. Was he even capable of that?  
The last prayer he had made with his entire heart had been of destruction and oblivion.  
Was that kind of honest hope even possible for him? Messiah's voice, people said, couldn't reach those who fully shrouded themselves in darkness. And how more shrouded could he be? He had been born with destruction as his sole purpose. His life had been nothing but suffering, both his and the one he caused others, carefully crafted by those who wanted to use him. Even the most hopeful, happy part of his life had only been allowed long enough to teach him the pain of losing everything.  
He was, and had always been, a murderer. He didn't even remember the first time he'd killed clearly, although that time had been mostly accidental. The next one hadn't.  
Would the saviour who nurtured life and light on all of Cray really sully themself by talking to him?  
For a moment, he almost gave up. It was pointless; might as well spare himself the pain. But it was that reasoning that slapped him, that woke him up. Was this what he was really afraid of? Was he so scared of being rejected that he didn't even want to try?  
Shiranui believed in him. Kazuma deserved an apology at the very least. Who was he to run away?  
He lay on his bed, and closed his eyes. An honest prayer. He wasn't sure what he should actually pray for, but if he had to find something honest in him… maybe it was those feelings.  
For them, maybe he could do it.  
He reached inside himself, for the yearning that had been burning in his heart, stronger and stronger, since he came back to himself.  
_Please._  
He wanted… he wanted to make Shiranui's life happy again. To fix the pain he had caused, and offer him a bright future. He wanted to make Kazuma understand that it hadn't been his fault if they were used by Gyze, that no matter how much their feelings might have echoed, it was only because Luard had been raised and used for that purpose and because Kazuma had been unlucky enough to be the one bonded to him that the connection that led Gyze to manifest part of itself on Earth had been possible. He wanted… he wanted to learn enough to _help_ , both his friends and his former foes and those who were both of those things. Shiranui, Kazuma, but also Chrono Dran, Babd, Ahsha. If he stayed stuck in place, then what use could he ever be to those people who were moving forward?  
_Please let me meet him. Even if it's just for one day…_  
He reached deep inside his heart, and with a shiver offered his feelings, his thoughts, towards the immensity of space. Praying.  
And just as his body was starting to sink into sleep, something answered.

At first, he wasn't sure it wasn't just his sleepy mind edging into the first hints of a dream. But the presence sank into all of him, and soon he was gasping, fully aware of something or someone looking at all of him, through all of him, knowing every particle and feeling and thought that made up who he was. And yet when he tried to open his eyes, he had already sunk into a state that wasn't quite sleep, but definitely wasn't being awake either.  
His eyes were already open. But they were also closed. He couldn't make sense of the world anymore.  
Knowledge sat itself into his mind, small layer after small layer. Messiah was satisfied to see him healthy and living. Messiah wanted to know his purpose in visiting Earth. Messiah had felt his fear, his doubt, and did not hold what had happened against him: the only thing that mattered was a will to do better, and to hope.  
Somehow, that was the worst part. That they had seen his cowardice, that he'd been ready to run away because he couldn't take the idea that they wouldn't want him. And as he felt that shame, he knew they felt it too, and hated it even more.  
Another layer of knowledge settled into his mind. Shame was the enemy of progress. Guilt could teach people to do better, but shame often held them back from facing themselves or their path.  
He was alive, and needed not be ashamed.  
He bit his lip, in this image that wasn't actually his body, and tried to project his request.  
_I want to meet with Kazuma. I want to apologise to him, and to meet him for real this time. And if at the same time I can understand better how to move forward, then… it would be good. Two birds with one stone. I thought… I thought diffriding would be a viable solution… if he accepts, of course._ He paused. _There's a way to ask him, right?_  
Diffriding, unless warped and forced, always started with communication between both parties, Messiah informed him. He would need to talk to Kazuma himself. But they could start the communication, and transfer his mind to Earth temporarily, if Kazuma agreed.  
_… I'm ready._  
Or as ready as he could be, he added just to himself, although he had no doubt that they would hear him.

Luard didn't know what he expected when he reached Kazuma's mind. It was hazy at first, an image that seemed infinitely far away, seen through a layer of fog, even though he was standing in the middle of it. It felt like a city bathed in warm sunset light, although he couldn't have placed any landmark on it; it seemed to be eternally shifting.  
And then, suddenly, the city was aware of him.  
“… Luard?”  
His breath caught. Kazuma's voice sounded surprised, but not angry or scared.  
Kazuma's image took shape out of the mist.  
“What are you…” He looked around himself. “Is this a dream? I don't usually do that lucid dreaming stuff…”  
“… I wanted to talk to you,” Luard said, quietly.  
Kazuma's eyes narrowed.  
“… you're real.”  
“Yes.”  
“… oh. So what are you doing here?” He paused. “Where _is_ 'here'?”  
“I believe… it is some kind of manifestation of your mind. An image created by your consciousness to give shape to what has no substance.”  
“Huh?” He looked around himself, and unlike Luard, he seemed to see the surroundings clearly. A slight thoughtful frown was shaping his face—until his eyes widened and he blushed. “Oh. I—I see.”  
“… is something the matter?”  
“No, no it's fine. I just remembered something. Anyway, you wanted to talk to me?”  
Luard bit his lip.  
“… would you allow me to ride you?”  
There was a flicker of amusement in Kazuma's eye, but it was quickly followed by a more wary glance down and away.  
“I…”  
“… I know I don't deserve it after what happened last time, but… I wanted to meet you properly.”  
“Oh, no, that's not why I'm bothered,” Kazuma said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Luard wasn't quite sure he was as unaffected as he wanted to be, but he would have to trust him to know what he wanted. “It's just… you know how that guy diffrode my brother…”  
Luard winced inwardly. To Kazuma, Shiranui was still the enemy.  
How would his own feelings be taken? Would Kazuma reject him if he sensed how Luard felt about their former target? Would he close himself to him?  
But he had to be honest. Nothing less would do, in this situation.  
“You're… you kept the memories I left behind, didn't you?”  
“… some of it. I know he was manipulated. Doesn't mean I'm just gonna forgive what he did to Kazumi. He didn't just use him. He _went out of his way to hurt him_ , even though Kazumi trusted him!”  
Ah… it really was a cycle, wasn't it?  
“… so did I. To him.” He tried to put his thoughts into words properly. “… we became friends, now. He's changed, and I did too. I'm not asking you to forgive him,” he added, looking back at him, “I just wanted you to know. Since you'll probably share some of my thoughts and memories again if we do this.”  
Kazuma looked at him, his mouth tight.  
“… is there any way I can convince you that I'm in good faith?” Luard asked.  
Kazuma sighed.  
“No. I know you are. You're… one of those people who're honest to a fault. I don't think you could actually trick me.”  
Luard stared at him in shock. He was a _murderer_ and Kazuma knew it, and here he was saying that he trusted him because he wasn't capable of something as mundane as _lying_?  
But… the more he thought about it, the more he realised that Kazuma was right. Even at the deepest of his despair as a child, he had tricked people, but always silently; lying with words, disguising his intent, had always been something he was bad at. It was often easier to say nothing at all, and pray people would take pity of him, or say nothing at all and hope they'd come after him thinking him an easy victim. He wasn't the kind of thief who could spin a pretty story to take advantage of people. The best he could do, when he wanted to dissimulate something, was to say nothing at all, and he was often blindingly obvious, unless the other person was someone as gullible as, say, Chrono Dran.  
Shiranui would probably be amused if he heard Kazuma now.  
“… you're right,” he sighed, and Kazuma actually snickered.  
“Cute.”  
“Wh-what?”  
“You were totally pouting right now.”  
“I—I was _not_!”  
“Totally were,” Kazuma said with a grin, and Luard forgot about their argument in the face of how bright it was.  
How Kazuma could channel such light-hearted cheer after everything that had happened to him, Luard didn't understand, and could only admire.  
Was he really the only one who couldn't move forward?  
“Fine,” Kazuma said, still smiling. “Let's do this.”  
“… are you sure?”  
“You're the one who asked, right?”  
“… I did.” He offered Kazuma his hand. “I won't stay more than a few days… and you can regain control whenever you want. I promise. I don't want… to disturb your life.”  
“Yeah, yeah,” Kazuma said, but then he dropped the dismissive tone for a quiet, honest “Thank you.”  
He took Luard's hand.

Luard opened his eyes to a brightly lit room and the feeling of a body that was much like his own, yet strangely different.  
The first thing he felt was the lack of his usual mana, and the powerlessness of it hit him right in the chest, knocking the air out of him.  
_Chill_ , Kazuma's consciousness told him, sounding exasperated but feeling amused. _Not all of us can be super powerful mages._  
_But it feels so…_  
_Get used to it._  
Luard bristled slightly, but kept it under control. Kazuma was in the right there; he needed to adapt more. It really was a flaw of his in general.  
_You're different from what I expected_ , Kazuma thought.  
_How so?_  
_… more nervous, I guess._ A pause. _When I was a kid I thought you looked really cool and confident._  
_… so I'm not cool?_ he sighed, painfully aware that he'd absolutely brought that on himself.  
At the back of his mind, Kazuma smirked.  
_I dunno. You'll have to show me. But without your magic._  
Luard sighed.  
_… so, where are we going?_  
_I dunno, it's your Earth-tourism trip. Coming of age trip. Whatever. How am I supposed to know that?_  
_… I think… why don't you show me some of the places you like, to begin with?_  
_Places I like?_ He paused. _… I'm not even sure I have any. I can take you to the branch, I guess._  
He sent a thought Luard's way, teaching him the path to the Dragon Empire branch and warning him to at least let him be aware when he tried to handle the train tickets, but a faint memory caught at Luard's mind.  
_Wait._  
_What?_  
_Before that… I would like to see the house where you grew up._

 _We shouldn't be here_ , Kazuma grumbled as Luard tried to see above a lower section of wall. _I swear, if we run into my father because of you, I—_  
_What about your brother?_  
_My brother doesn't live here anymore. Why are you so interested in this place anyway? It's just an old house. Too big and too cold in winter and too fancy and delicate so it always feels like you'll break something if you ever try to live._  
_Doesn't it hold memories?_  
_Yeah. They're_ bad _memories._  
Luard paused. Stood back down normally from his position on tip toes.  
_… oh. Sorry. I didn't think about that._  
Kazuma sighed.  
_It's fine. Why're you so focused on it anyway?_  
_… the places I lived with my Big Bro… they're important in my heart still. I've never been able to face them again since I left, but…_  
_You regret it._  
_… yes._  
_… I suppose I do have some good memories. Mostly just of Kazumi though. And now I can see_ him _without having to deal with that house_.  
_Oh… that's a good thing._  
He hesitated.  
_What?_ Kazuma sighed.  
_This is also… the place where I met you, technically._  
There was a short wave of surprise and nostalgia from within him. And then, Kazuma chuckled.  
_Guess that's true. But since we can't go in, how about I show you the places I've been playing a lot instead?_  
_Why not? I want to see more of this city._

They toured the city. Kazuma mumbled something about 'tourist traps' when Luard tried to stop at some of the stalls and shops and 'it's embarrassing', but relented when he asked to investigate a shrine. This Earth country they called Japan was very different from United Sanctuary, and yet there were many things that echoed, and it gave him a strange sense of déjà vu.  
Finally, they drew close to the Dragon Empire branch. Kazuma had started to retreat in the background more the more Luard got familiar with how streets worked and public transportation, but as they arrived Luard still felt a breath of relief coming from him: there were no events today and the place was mostly quiet, as far as 'quiet' could exist in the Dragon Empire branch.  
The place exuded a sense of _fun_ that Luard would only have expected from Zoo, if at all: contrary to its namesake on Cray, people were laughing, enjoying themselves, and the focus seemed to be on learning freely and casually. It was a far cry from the militaristic outlook Dragon Empire had, or even from the more insidious strictness of United Sanctuary, or the silent calm of the castle he had spent the last few years in, although, now he thought about it, some places on Cray had started to change. Shiranui's village had been one of them: they hadn't sacrificed any effort or discipline, but the atmosphere had lightened, and good-hearted fun had replaced some of the grimmer kinds of humour and entertainment that had before been encouraged.  
It was a good change. Maybe this communication between the worlds could bring positive progress to both.  
Well, he thought as he walked through the building, at least the almost cult-like worship some people held for Dragonic Overlord transcended worlds.  
_… I would like to learn to play_ , Luard thought at Kazuma, taken in despite himself by the atmosphere and all the incentives to try. Maybe these people were more efficient and ruthless than he had given them credit for. They certainly seemed good at recruiting.  
_Maybe not here_ , Kazuma answered hurriedly. _People will talk if I suddenly act like a beginner. If you really want to we could… try to contact Chrono or Taiyou or Kumi. Or Kazumi—he'd be happy to, I think._  
Luard's stomach twisted a little. Fighting Kazumi would mean fighting Shiranui—fighting the people he'd been trying to make amends to and hopefully become friends with—fight, even, maybe the shadows and memories of people he had killed.  
_As honoured as I would have been to fight your brother, I—_  
He trailed off, breathless despite having spoken only in thought. His head was spinning, his skin burning the way it sometimes did when he reversed dragshift.  
_… It's fine_ , Kazuma said quietly. _I understand._  
Luard breathed in shakily.  
_I… I will be fine… I just need… a moment…_  
“Shouji?”  
He had barely heard it, too taken by the roaring in his ears and still unfamiliar with the name, but Kazuma jumped at the back of their shared consciousness. He turned, to face a tall man with white hair. For a moment, he wondered if it was Kazuma's brother, but then he noticed the differences in his face, in his hair, in the way he held himself. And he hadn't called Kazuma by his name.  
The man's eyes narrowed, from curiosity to wariness. As Luard looked up at him, his face hardened.  
“You are very far from home,” he said, and before he could push through his dizziness and confusion to try and argue that Kazuma's house wasn't that far away, the man took a step closer, “Luard.”

They froze. Luard stared, breathless.  
Quickly, Kazuma nudged him out of the way and took back control, hurriedly raising a hand in appeasement.  
“It's fine,” he said, his tone unmistakably his, “I'm around. It's a mutual kind of thing.”  
The man's face stayed impassive, but he seemed to relax a little.  
“… I see.”  
“H-how did you see me?” Luard babbled.  
A faint grim smile slid onto the man's lips.  
“It's easy when you know what to look for. It isn't the first time I see a person's body inhabited by someone else.”  
_That's Kouji Ibuki_ , Kazuma informed him, calmer now that the tension seemed to have dissipated somewhat. _He's one of Chrono's friends—but more importantly, he's like the Big Guy in the association._  
_What, so like the King?_  
_No, he doesn't have any actual political power in the_ country _but… basically, the country has its own leadership, but people who plan Vanguard have a network that spans the entire world. The main branch is here in Japan, and he leads_ that. _Makes sense?_  
_I think I see._  
Potentially the worst person they could have run into, then. But he had no real reason to feel guilty and avoid authorities—no matter how much his kneejerk reaction from past experiences told him otherwise. Kazuma at least seemed relaxed now, and he decided to trust him.  
_He's not that strict_ , Kazuma told him, amused. _Chrono says he's just awkward—I kinda see it, honestly._  
_I see… who is his Vanguard?_ If he was that important, and a friend or acquaintance to Kazuma and the Gear Chronicle Singularity, surely he was one of the humans who were closely bonded to the people of Cray. Maybe he had recognised him because his Vanguard knew Luard in real life.  
A flicker of amusement ran through Kazuma's mind, too fast to give him time to brace himself before Kazuma answered.  
_Messiah._  
Luard felt dizzy.  
All the while, Ibuki kept observing him. Had Messiah told him about Luard? But if they had, he wouldn't have acted so surprised earlier. Or maybe they just sent him to keep an eye on him but didn't say why—he really needed to stop letting his mind run wild like that.  
But their Vanguard's gaze felt almost as penetrating as their own awareness had, and he felt—more than naked, bared somewhere deep and raw. There was too much understanding in those eyes and it made him want to punch something and run.  
Or rather, throw a fireball and run, but he had to be creative in this world.  
Thankfully, he somehow kept himself under control.  
“Why have you come here?” Ibuki asked, right as Luard was starting to feel like he was dissolving.  
He held back the urge to bite his lip.  
“… to find some answers,” he finally said.  
How could he explain the full truth? It was embarrassing to even talk about, and felt arrogant on top of that. Who was he, to mess with their lives for his closure? But Kazuma had wanted him there…  
Something flashed through Ibuki's eyes, and he smiled slightly.  
“Shouji. Do you mind if I borrow him for a while?”  
“Huh?” Luard said, quickly followed by Kazuma's own answer: “Be my guest.”  
_Don't leave me alone with him!_  
_I can't leave you alone anyway, genius, this is my body_ , Kazuma answered, rolling his eyes hard enough that Luard felt it. _Anyway he almost died while fighting against the apostles so he's probably pretty high on the list of people who deserve some answers._  
_Doesn't he already have all of them?_  
“I promise I won't harm you,” Ibuki sighed, although he looked more amused than exasperated.  
“I…”  
Unbothered by the emotions running wild in Luard's mind, Kazuma's stomach grumbled.  
Kazuma, at the back of his mind, unhelpfully snickered.  
“I can even help with that problem,” Ibuki added, smiling slightly.  
“… _fine_.”

The place Ibuki brought them to was somewhat crowded. People waited in line for one of the attendants behind a counter to serve them food, then left with a tray. Large panels above their heads advertised the dishes, but he had no idea what any of them were.  
Ibuki ordered for him. Luard followed him awkwardly with his tray, to a small table in a corner near a window. Kazuma, rather than informing him of his food preferences, seemed content to relax almost entirely out of their shared conscious space. He seemed determined on taking a nap, although Luard wasn't sure that was even possible if _he_ was awake.  
Once they sat, Luard almost forgot his nervousness in the face of brand new experiences. No matter how long he lived comfortably, he'd never quite gotten rid of the urge to eat anything he could get his hands on, and finding new edible things was always something that made him feel better. One of his deepest regrets when it came to his trip to Zoo, aside from the whole having to fight law enforcement on arrival thing, was that he'd never gotten to taste the local food.  
Earth's local food seemed to involve packaging portions into bags and boxes. He found a slice of meat with greens and what was _probably_ some kind of cheese held between two halves of a sliced bun, and small sticks that Ibuki informed him were fried root vegetables. 'Fried' immediately caught his stomach's attention, and he started with those. They were deliciously crunchy, still warm, and quite heartening.  
Copying Ibuki in eating his bun with his hands ( _finally_ he wouldn't get judged for it), he tried to figure out the man's motives.  
Why did he want to talk to him? And why was he now just feeding him instead of _talking_?  
Finally, as Ibuki started drinking a beverage from a covered cup with a straw, he gave in.  
“Did Messiah put you up to this?”  
Ibuki blinked.  
“Messiah?”  
“Are you keeping tabs on me for them?”  
Ibuki stared at him.  
“Why do you think…” He trailed off and sighed. “They didn't. Until I ran into you earlier, I had no idea that you were here. We don't actually really communicate.” He sipped his drink, and eyed Luard with his frustratingly impassive face. “Why would they want me to keep tabs on you?”  
… well, he had that one coming.  
“… they're the one who allowed me to come here. Properly, at least—last time, Gyze's power forced the way.”  
Ibuki nodded silently.  
Luard toyed with the last of his fried sticks, nervous and discontented. Experiencing new things was something he would normally have been excited about, but seeing none of his actual goal come any closer to fruition made him frustrated and uncomfortable. Kazuma had let him in, but seemed to have already found his own closure, for the most part. Just like Shiranui had, back on Cray. They were all healing, moving forward, and _he_ , the perpetrator, was still hung up on what had happened and refused to move on.  
What closure could he find, when they needed nothing from him? How could he atone, when the world didn't need him? Whether there or here, there was nothing he could do that couldn't be done by someone else. This world, now that he wasn't actively destroying it, had gone on with its own life and future, its own destiny; its people had healed and moved forward, and no one could actually tell how closely disaster had been averted.  
He was useless, and adrift, and looking for answers that probably ever existed. And atoning, if no one needed him, was more about his own peace of mind than about actually fixing anything.  
Useless and selfish.  
He clenched his teeth. Across the table, Ibuki eyed him and put down his drink.  
“… the answers you are seeking are probably already within you,” Ibuki said.  
Luard almost jumped.  
“Huh?”  
“Isn't that why you've come? To find what you can do now?”  
Luard scowled.  
“Are you _sure_ Messiah didn't tell you anything?”  
Ibuki smiled, a flash of grim, nostalgic amusement flitting on his face.  
“It wasn't hard to guess or see.”  
“Do you usually go around analysing people and their motives?”  
At that, Ibuki actually chuckled.  
“Believe me or don't, but I'm actually terrible at this kind of thing.”  
“You seemed pretty perceptive to me right now.”  
Ibuki hesitated.  
“… I've been there before,” he just said quietly.

 

Ibuki hadn't quite anticipated the effect he would have. As soon as he said those words, Luard's eyes grew wide, and he tensed again—he was much more nervous than Shouji, and completely lacking in the casualness and apathy that defined him. Even if he didn't have an instinct for this kind of thing, the difference was strikingly obvious.  
Now that he was being stared at, Ibuki almost started to regret his words: he didn't like being observed, and especially didn't like baring that part of his past. The last time he had had been in the midst of a fight he had been ready to sacrifice his life and soul for, for the sake of someone who had helped him find his own answers, his own hope for the future. Talking about it casually, in a mundane setting, was different.  
Showing your heart was much different when you weren't already stripped raw.  
But here he was, considering actually talking about it. He hadn't even to Mamoru, although he suspected Mamoru had probably done his own research and pieced part of the story together. He hadn't even to _Chrono_ , who had gotten involved in his misguided attempts the most, even though he would have trusted him with his life. The only people who knew had been present when Messiah and Aichi had torn him away from Oksizz's control.  
But maybe… maybe talking to a relative stranger was easier, in a way. And Luard, he thought, needed to know that there could be a future after living through that kind of hell and the guilt that came with it.  
More than anything, Ibuki didn't want to let more young people fall prey to the same destructive traps he had. If he could make a difference, even small, then…  
… then that could be his own way of atoning, too. More and more, as he grew older and more stable and actually started relying on his friends, he was starting to understand that the real path to better futures lay not in shame and isolation but in spreading what positive change he could. And that was what mattered.  
Fighting for his own happiness and that of those he loved was more important than showing how sorry he was. And slowly, very slowly, he was beginning to accept that maybe it hadn't been all his fault, either.  
Seeing such a mirror of himself certainly was slapping him in the face with it.  
“… what do you mean?” Luard finally said, his food forgotten in his suspicion.  
“… a few years ago,” he said quietly, “I was manipulated into almost destroying the world, much as you were. A being from a planet that was trying to destroy Cray took me under its control and manipulated my emotions and memories to drive me mad with rage… so I could be the perfect vessel for it.”  
Luard stared, shock and horror and suspiciousness battling on his face. Ibuki smiled in derision.  
“He didn't start from nothing. The pain that he exploited was real. I was isolated, scared, and bitter; it wasn't hard for him to take those emotions and blow them out of proportion, to make me forget everything else.” He took another sip of his drink, trying to push himself into going on as the relief of finally talking openly about it fought with the overwhelming urge to run away. “I was torn away from his control by Messiah and their former Vanguard. They freed me and defeated him. Cray and Earth were protected. Everyone went back to their lives.” He chuckled. “I didn't.”  
Luard kept staring at him. The vulnerability on his face was overwhelming, transparent even to Ibuki's eyes. He looked trapped, desperate and paranoid, and under it all still hopeful, still trying his best to actually be good and do something positive.  
Was this what his friends saw when they looked at him? Suddenly, a wave of heat crept up his nape; Kamui's awkward attempts at being helpful, Chrono's nagging and Mamoru's determined waltz into his life were starting to make some kind of sense, and he wanted nothing more than to hide and possibly disappear.  
But in the past… in the past, he would have hated this boy who reminded him so much of himself. Perhaps he was moving forward after all.  
“For the longest time,” he finally continued, as Luard didn't seem ready to talk, "I was obsessed with the idea of atonement. I couldn't just live; I couldn't move forward with my own life. I had to atone, to fix what I had done. But the damage itself had already been fixed, so I was at a loss. I couldn't bear to stay at home, doing nothing useful that could make up for my mistakes, so I left. I travelled the world, searching for a way to atone… searching for someone who would put me to use,” he concluded, a slight bitterness slipping into his voice.  
When had he started to realise that Rive Shindou had exploited his desperation? When had he started accepting that maybe, just maybe, he hadn't deserved to be? That it wasn't the right of anyone with a goal, no matter how noble, to use him however they wanted?  
Maybe it was because that person had indirectly caused harm to others that he cared about, and made _him_ hurt people he genuinely admired. But even in the aftermath of the Stride Gate, he had still supported Rive Shindou.  
Was it just the effects of time? Was he growing up? For so long now he had felt like a pitiful child trying to fit in an adult body.  
Chrono would probably laugh if he told him.  
“… you say that like it's a bad thing,” Luard finally muttered.  
“Hmm…” How could he put this? “… when you're desperate to be told what to do, it's very easy to become blind to the motives of those who will promise you answers.”  
Luard looked up at him. For a moment, he squinted, as if suspicious, but then suddenly he sucked in a breath, his eyes widening. His fingers tightened, and he looked down and past Ibuki, staring into nothing, even his teeth tightly pressed.  
“… are you all right?”  
“I—yeah— _shit!_ ” He took in a shaky breath, then huffed slightly, hissing: “Yes, I'm fine,” as if at himself.  
Ibuki waited.  
Luard brought up his hands to rest his face in them, and sighed, shaking lightly, something draining out of him.  
Ibuki stayed silent. Whatever was going through Luard's mind (or Kazuma, who knew if they were actively communicating right now or not), if he tried to guess and said something wrong because of assumptions, he might lose his chance to sound convincing and actually help him. So he waited instead.  
“… don't mind me,” Luard said after a while, face still hidden in his hands, “I just realised something.”  
“Mmmm.”  
“We're both such idiots,” he muttered, before finally looking back up at Ibuki. “Anyway, why are you telling me this?”  
“I don't want others to get used the way I was, especially when the results can have such massive consequences.” Luard looked away; Ibuki continued. “That aside… you are important to Shouji.”  
“… that makes sense. I guess.”  
He kept staring at what little was left of his food. There was more Ibuki wanted to say, but maybe he needed time.  
Maybe they both needed time.  
“… I have to go to several other branches today, as part of my job. Do you want to come with me?”  
“Huh?”  
“If Shouji is fine with it. It's your chance to see more of this world, and how the Association works. Dragon Empire isn't the only branch.”  
Luard eyed him warily, but there was a spark of curiosity under it all.  
“… fine.” He paused. “He said 'just don't make me do anything embarrassing'.”  
Ibuki chuckled.  
“Neither of us is known for being particularly social. We should be fine. And no one will question you too much if you're with me; I'll just say I asked you to help me with my work.”  
“… fine, then. But I'm finishing this food first.”

 

This Ibuki man was an enigma.  
Luard had come across a lot of strange people in his life (and the top spot, aside from the two nutcases who'd gotten him possessed, was still held by a certain Pale Moon asshole), but Kouji Ibuki, in a lot of way, was the strangest.  
Something about him felt inherently threatening. He couldn't tell whether that was Messiah's power through him (and he could _feel_ it now, faintly, an echo of their presence that inhabited his very flesh), or something about the man himself, but it put him on edge. And yet, the more he interacted with him, the more Ibuki seemed… harmless. Kind, even, in a strange way.  
His quiet ways almost reminded him of Shiranui sometimes, and not only did that make him feel a little awkward, but… it made him feel homesick.  
He hadn't even been on Earth for a _day_ and he was feeling homesick!  
But it wasn't just home he wanted to see: Earth was fascinating, and he wanted to see more of it, and he was in no hurry to return to the castle and Morfessa's smirks. But Shiranui… he'd come to understand something about Shiranui, about himself, and now he just wanted to see him. To feel, physically, that he was okay, that they would be okay in the future.  
That neither of them would get used as a tool again.  
It hadn't just been revenge that had driven Shiranui. It was guilt, guilt for letting his family die, frustration at his own weakness. The same emotions that Luard had been barely trudging through in the last few months. He had let himself be used not just because he wanted to avenge his comrades, but because he thought he would make the world a better place.  
It made him sick to think about. But Shiranui had been moving forward, finally, finding his own answers. Luard trusted him to be all right, now.  
He just needed to learn to do the same.

After finishing their food, they took a train to the Magallanica branch, which, hearts aside, was at least decorated in some good colours. If only people back at the castle understood the appeal of aesthetically pleasing decoration! Bare stone walls got old very fast, and not everyone had Morfessa's resources. Her room wasn't lacking in tapestries and carpets to keep out both gloom and chill, but the corridors and labs were cold as ever unless you were working with fire.  
Dark Zone, however, was somehow _worse_ than Eingang. Why anyone would build a castle made purely to be roamed in, with nothing to really live was beyond him (although following Ibuki did lead him to discover a hidden door beyond which all the administration actually lay, complete with, to Luard's relief, a small kitchen and a break room with comfortable couches), but he had a feeling that no one on Cray should ever be presented with the idea, in case they thought it was smart and should be reproduced.  
Ibuki, despite being visibly not that good at people, seemed well liked. He was welcomed with smiles, and the occasional teasing that he didn't respond to, and when he focused on professional matters, people followed suit, going into work mode and answering his questions quickly.  
It felt… strange. Did no one know what he had been involved in? Or did they not care? Luard didn't know how he would feel about either option when it came to him—the idea of not being held accountable, not being watched made him nervous—but there was something comforting to it nonetheless. There was a life after disaster. A life after atonement.  
They did, however, seem to give him a lot of work too. He couldn't count the number of times he'd heard the words 'send it to the main branch' anymore.  
“Do you just do _everything_ around here?” Luard asked as they left the Dark Zone branch and headed for yet another train.  
“… I had to pick the association back up after it was almost destroyed due to losing its corrupted leadership… they became used to relying on me.”  
“Why does it have to be _you_ though? Don't get me wrong, you can do whatever you like, but you already look a lot more tired than this morning, and if there's three more of those left…”  
“I was one of the main actors in bringing it down in the first place.”  
“So what, you're atoning for it by working yourself to the bone?” Luard pointed out, raising an eyebrow in what he hoped still looked acceptably Judging in Kazuma's body.  
Ibuki's step faltered a little.  
“I…” He paused. “… when you put it like that.”  
He didn't say anything more, though, and Luard didn't push. After all, he didn't know much about this man or this world. But from the back of his consciousness, he thought he felt Kazuma watching the both of them with amusement.

Their next stop was United Sanctuary. That one, at least, felt like it followed the spirit of the nation it was based on, or at least its official face: clean, orderly, obsessed with symmetry and height and white. All you were missing were the military patrols in white armour.  
To his surprise, the Branch Chief was a Shadow Paladin player, and there was something in him that immediately put Luard on edge. It was the same kind of feeling that Morfessa gave, to those who had a least a little sense for those things: a surface that was so relaxed that it could only hide overwhelming strength. And somehow, this man seemed a thousand times more relaxed than her, and about as many times as dangerous.  
One smile, and he knew he too had figured him out.  
Deep inside him, Kazuma stirred too. It seemed he too was unsettled by the smiling Branch Chief, and that reaction only worsened when he came closer, bending slightly to his level and nudging a lock of hair away from his face.  
“My, my. We don't see you here often, _Kazuma._ ”  
Luard and Kazuma's breaths hitched and stopped in unison.  
“Ren.”  
Ibuki was glaring at them, his arms crossed. Ren smiled deeper, then straightened.  
“Can't I have a little fun?” he all but whined. “It's a once in a lifetime opportunity. And you gave me _so much work_ to do.”  
“You mean for Shinjou.”  
“Tsk, tsk, don't assume things like that. Tetsu had to go take care of something else so I did a good part of that paperwork myself. You owe me, Ibu~kki.”  
Ibuki sighed.  
“What do you want?”  
“With all this work, I haven't gotten to fight…”  
Again, Ibuki sighed, and took out his deck, but Ren stopped him with a gesture of his hand.  
“Nu-uh.”  
“What?”  
“A fight with _him_.”  
It took Luard a second to understand what he meant.  
“H- _huh_?”  
Ibuki scowled slightly.  
“You don't have to indulge him.”  
“But don't you think it'll be fun~?”  
“I…”  
He felt a little dizzy. Kazuma nudged him from the back of his mind.  
_Well, didn't you want to fight?_  
_I did, but_ him!? _He's dangerous, you've felt it too, right?_  
_Yeah but… you're dangerous too, right? Hell,_ Chrono _'s probably dangerous. A lot of people are. Doesn't mean they'll actually try to hurt you, y'know?_  
_Bold words coming from you._  
_Listen, I gotta grow some spine someday right? You'll be fine. I don't think Ibuki'd have brought you if he was gonna hurt you._  
_...I barely even know the rules…_  
_I'll give you pointers for the first few turns. And anyway, I don't think he expects you to know how to fight, although he sure seems to be having fun pretending he doesn't know it's you and not me._  
_… fine. I swear, I'd rather deal with people like Ibuki than this guy._  
Kazuma snickered.  
_You were pretty breathless a second ago._  
_He was right in my face!_  
All the while, Ren kept smiling. In the end it was that that decided him: it felt too much like a challenge, like being measured and judged, and if there was one thing Luard still hated even now, it was being looked down on.  
He wanted a fight? Well, he'd get it. Even if he lost, he refused to admit he was too scared to even try.  
He stepped forward. Ren grinned.

 _Well… that was predictable_ , Kazuma said as Luard put down his last damage.  
“Hehe~ I win~”  
Luard looked up at him. Just looking at his face, you'd never be able to tell how much fighting against him felt like being toyed with by a dragon ten times your size. But then he'd open his eyes and you'd remember.  
“… thank you for the fight,” he grit out, less out of frustration at his loss and more because he felt awkward talking at all.  
“You did quite well,” Ren said, smiling.  
Luard raised his eyebrows. He'd won by a landslide; Luard hadn't been able to do _anything_ , even with Kazuma helping him regularly.  
_No, he's right_ , Kazuma said. _I don't think he was holding back. Even if you lost, you held your ground longer than I thought._  
“… thanks, I guess,” he said, to both of them.  
“Are you satisfied now?” Ibuki sighed.  
“Don't ask _that_ when you know I never will be when it comes to fighting,” Ren said with a wink. Ibuki ignored him and started walking past Luard and towards the door.  
“Come on, we're leaving.”  
“H-huh? Just like that?”  
“If we don't, he'll rope you into something else.”  
“Rude, Ibu-kki,” Ren whined, but rather than looking genuinely sad, he shot Luard another wink and a smile. It was… unsettling. Unsettling enough to make him a little shaky. “Well, you heard the Big Chief. Run along now, and thanks for the fight!”  
“I—uh—thank you. A pleasure.”  
And he ran out after Ibuki.  
“Is he always like this?” he whispered once they were in the elevator.  
Ibuki sighed.  
“Be grateful that you didn't see him serious.”  
“… so what, if I see him not smiling, I run?”  
Ibuki smiled, lips tight.  
“No. If you see him smile _more_ than that, you run.”

Their next stop was Star Gate. He hadn't spent much time on the frozen continent on Cray, and given how heterogenous and enigmatic the nation in general was, Luard didn't know what to expect. A bunch of brawlers that came from a bunch of other nations in the first place or even from space, and a league of mechanical alien vigilantes, sharing a space-and-sea-port and a bit of frozen wasteland. What kind of unity and culture could even come from this?  
But as they arrived, he was reminded that the 'nation' of Star Gate held, in Vanguard terms at least, a third clan. He had never heard of Link Joker having an actual stronghold on Cray, much less its location; Chaos Breaker Dragon, as far as he knew, had been biding his time somewhere in space until he launched his little invasion.  
To his surprise, no one assaulted Ibuki with questions this time. A few people waved at him, and one came to say hello, but was satisfied with Ibuki's short answer rather than trying to start a real conversation.  
“This is my home turf, so to say,” Ibuki explained as they made their way to the Branch Chief's office.  
“What, do you live around here?”  
“No. I was originally the Clan Leader for Link Joker. I still am, although I rarely have time to focus on that role these days. Thankfully, this branch is rather quiet, so I can handle it. If it had been Dragon Empire…”  
But Luard's brain had stayed stuck on his earlier words.  
“… Link Joker? But—aren't you…”  
“Hm?”  
“You're Messiah's Vanguard, aren't you?”  
“Yes. Messiah's clan is Link Joker.”  
For about the tenth time that day, Luard's world spun and rearranged itself. Kazuma, somehow, seemed surprised by his reaction.  
_Wait, you didn't know?_  
“That's… not common knowledge on Cray,” he breathed out.  
“… then I suggest you keep it to yourself.”

The Branch Chief mostly ignored him as he had his meeting with Ibuki, and he stood there in a corner as his mind ran itself in circles, picking up on detail after detail. So _that_ had been why the Link Joker forces on Cray had seemed to be fighting each other. The force that came to halt most of the Star Vader invasion and help unlock some of Cray's fighters had been unknown, but they definitely looked like Link Joker, and there had been much speculation about their identity; the leading theory was that a faction of Star Vaders had revolted against Chaos Breaker somehow and hoped to use the conflict to gain their freedom. But they had disappeared again in the aftermath, although there had been rumours of sightings.  
If they had been with Messiah all along, if Messiah had prepared their own force to protect Cray from invasion… suddenly a lot of things would make sense. But why pick Link Joker, the fallen, disgraced enemies that the entire world hated, to build their own nation?  
_Well, why not?_ part of himself answered. _Someone decided_ you _were worth enough to salvage after you hurt so many people. Why not them?_  
_I thought you'd actually talked to Messiah_ , Kazuma pointed out once he'd started calming down enough that his thoughts weren't so impermeable.  
_As far as I know, no one's actually seen them in person. Well, no one in this era, anyway._ He paused. _Maybe Chronojet Dragon has. But I don't know about anyone else._  
_So what, they're in hiding then?_  
_I always thought they were on a different plane, or something along those lines… but now I understand better. They've just been…_  
… building a new future.  
Ibuki snapped him out of his thoughts by waving a hand in front of his face. He jumped.  
“Wh—don't you have a better way to do that?”  
“You were spacing out. I tried to call you.”  
Ah, of course. He'd been too deep in thought to react to a name that wasn't actually his.  
“Sorry. Are we going?”  
“Yes.”

They walked out of the cool, orderly branch. While it had felt almost clinical on the way in, now Luard found himself leaving behind him a feeling of quiet and comfortable peace.  
“… I won't tell anyone,” he said quietly.  
Ibuki smiled lightly. Compared to his earlier bitter or strained smiles, this one was warm and quiet, and it looked like it belonged on his face, like that unassuming gentleness was what Ibuki was actually meant to display.  
“Thank you.”  
“I think I understood something.”  
Ibuki didn't ask him what, and he didn't offer to explain. They both knew, in their own way, what hope Messiah's blessing could bring.

Their last stop was Zoo. That last train ride took a significantly longer time, and combined with all the meetings Ibuki had been having, the light through the window was starting to deepen, streaked through with the first hints of red. Not quite evening, but late in the afternoon, the kind of fleeting light that he rarely ever got to experience, locked up in his castle. Getting to stare at the sky had been one of the best parts of travelling, and he'd taken it for granted the first time, so focused he'd been on revenge and study. Now, he came to appreciate it fully. To appreciate life and its beauty, and the delicate moments one could share, as transient as the pre-sunset light.  
The Zoo Branch had its own take of appreciating life.  
Maybe after the Dragon Empire and Dark Zone branches, he should have expected it. But those were, as over the top as they were, still at least related to Vanguard. Why the Zoo Branch saw it fit to maintain enough farmland to feed at least all of Eingang's inhabitants for a year, he really didn't know.  
On the other hand, it held the bright, alive feeling that the nation itself did, even as people started to desert it to go home. It felt like a good place to sit and relax, or even take a nap; to his younger self, it would have felt like paradise. Easy to hide in, comfortable to hang around in, and so much food ready for picking. Although he knew better than to help himself now (especially since the staff that was showing him around at Ibuki's request was clearly going out of her way for him), he couldn't help but want to taste some of the healthy-looking produce. He'd never seen plants look so strong, alive and tasty since Zoo itself, and he hadn't been able to linger once Ahsha broke him out of prison.  
The woman picked an apple from a low branch and handed it to him.  
“You looked like you needed a snack,” she said as he stared at her.  
Half distrustful and half reverent, Luard took the apple and held it in his hands, rubbing his thumb along the skin. It felt fresh and heavy.  
“… thank you.”  
She smiled, as if it was nothing, and continued her tour. Luard held his apple carefully, too scared to let the precious fruit fall if he put it in a pocket.

Ibuki was already waiting for him when they came back to the entrance and its waterfalls.  
“This one was short, thankfully,” Ibuki said as they caught up.  
Luard thanked the woman who had given him a tour, more warmly than he would normally have, then came back to stand next to Ibuki, awkward.  
“So…” he asked once it became obvious that Ibuki wasn't going to bring anything up himself, “what now?”  
“I'll walk you back home, unless Shouji wanted to take back control.”  
_I'm fine_ , Kazuma told him. _This is pretty restful, actually. Feels like catching up on a year's worth of naps I should've taken._  
“He said he's fine with things as they are.”  
“Hmm.” Ibuki paused. “Then do you mind if we go to one last place? It's not far out of the way.”  
“Huh? Aren't you done with work yet?”  
“I am—well, not quite. There's still paperwork I need to do at home, but for now… I'm as free as I will be. I just thought you might appreciate the view.”  
Well. Coming from Ibuki, that was intriguing. He decided to follow.

The river in the late sunset shone a deep pink, the faintest shimmers of orange reflecting on its surface. There were benches along the walkway, and they sat on one of them as they contemplated the water.  
Completely caught in the view, Luard didn't feel the eyes on him straight away. But Ibuki was observing him, and when he turned, he saw that he had been staring at his apple.  
Silently, Luard brought it to his mouth and finally bit into it. It was as fresh and invigorating as it had looked, the tart sweetness spreading on his tongue and making him sigh in pleasure.  
“… that woman gave it to me,” he said once he'd swallowed his mouthful.  
Ibuki nodded.  
“I assumed so.”  
Luard stared at the river. Somehow, in their awkward meal and their riding across the unfamiliar city and the things Ibuki showed him, he'd come to feel comfortable with him. Even sitting next to each other like this, he didn't feel the usual itch at the back of his neck that warned him that people were close and people were always, always cruel.  
Maybe he still didn't understand him, but maybe they didn't need to know everything to understand each other. They understood this moment, and they understood pain, and they understood the worth of a sunset.  
“… what are you supposed to do,” he asked quietly, out of the blue, “when you hurt those who're most important to you?”  
Because maybe that had been what ate at him the most. The world hating him, he could take. The world forgiving him would be strange, but ultimately he would get used to it. But he didn't understand how Shiranui could have come to forgive him like he did. He didn't even understand how Babd still considered him family, when his presence had robbed her of her brother. And Dagda…  
Dagda, in the few moments his spirit had been able to reach out to him, had given him nothing but love. Even though Luard had been the reason he was killed. Even though all he'd done in his name was kill even more.  
How could he ever feel at peace with the pain he had caused to those he most wanted to protect?  
Ibuki smiled. It wasn't quite the one he had shown earlier, but it was still warm and honest, bittersweet yet as soft as the sunset light on his face.  
“For the longest time, I asked myself the same question.”  
Luard waited, gripping his apple tight between his fingers.  
“When I was sent to fight… when I shouldered my new quest for atonement… I hurt people who became very important to me. I didn't know they would be, at first… one of them was a necessary tool in the fight for the greater good… the other was a bystander, caught in the crossfire in this fight between me and the man who led the attack on Cray's power of destiny. I never thought I would become attached to either of them. But by dragging them into my battle, I hurt them. My lies cost them. Not just in their hearts; it almost got them killed.” He chuckled. “There was another one, too, a boy who wasn't much different from myself. I never knew how to help him myself, and I dragged him into that battle too, let him experience things he never should have… that's why I didn't want it to happen again. In the end, I had to rely on someone else to save him… but I can't do that forever.” He looked down at the water. “… I thought that after the battle was over, they'd never want me in their life. I didn't deserve it. But…” He turned to Luard and smiled. “If they want me as their friend, then who am I to deny them? The least I can do to make it up to them is to obey their wishes, don't you think? Their decision is more important than my guilt.” He chuckled. “Although it isn't easy.”  
“… oh.”  
“If they had wanted me out of their life, I would have left without a word. But since they want me there… I'll just try to build a future with all of them. Both my friends from the past… and the new ones I made.” He smiled. “It's coming together, slowly. I think.”  
At a loss for words, Luard just looked down at his apple. And then, slowly, he brought it back up and bit into it again, slowly savouring it before taking another bite, and another.  
They sat together, in silence, as the sky shifted from pink to purple to a dark greyish blue and the faintest splatter of juice coated the corners of Luard's mouth and ran down his lips.

They didn't really talk on their last train. Luard had too much on his mind, and Ibuki seemed to have exhausted his reserve of words for the day. But it was comfortable, and Luard felt satisfied in the same way he did after a good day's work, when exhaustion free of frustration pulled him deep into sleep without the usual tossing or nightmares mere minutes after he went to bed. As strange as this day had been, he felt… at peace. Maybe Morfessa and Shiranui hadn't been wrong after all, although this probably wasn't what they'd had in mind.  
_Who cares, right?_ Kazuma said. _Honestly it was pretty fun for me too. It's not often you get to learn about the Mysterious Chief's personal life._  
_… thank you_ , Luard answered. _For giving me the opportunity._  
_Hey, don't mention it. It wasn't all bad, doing this… I didn't really want to only know the brainwashed you, you know._  
Luard shivered a little, but it was in emotion, not echoed horror.  
_… same for me._  
As they reached the block that held Kazuma's home, Ibuki stopped.  
“… is something the matter?” Luard asked. He had seemed fine until now, although he'd still insisted on walking them home even after Luard said he and Kazuma would be fine once they got off the train.  
“.. may I talk to Shouji for a moment?”  
Luard blinked, and Kazuma gently nudged him aside; he withdrew to let him take over.  
“What is it?” Kazuma asked.  
“Please don't tell Chrono about what I told you today. I haven't yet had the courage to tell him, but I want him to hear it from me, not anyone else.”  
He was nervous. But his eyes shone with determination. The same feeling that Luard now felt coursing through him.  
“… I promise.”  
Ibuki nodded.  
“Then good night, both of you. Shouji, please keep me informed on the situation; even if I trust you, I'd rather know when diffriders are roaming the city. Luard…”  
“Yes?” Luard asked.  
“… if you ever come back, my door is open. Shouji will know how to reach me.”  
“… I'll remember that.”  
Another short nod, and he was turning, walking away, and then gone.  
_You know_ , Kazuma said, _I think that's the most I've ever heard him talk. And I've seen him make official speeches. I hope you feel special._  
_Mmm._ He paused. _I think… it's about time for me to go home too._  
_Huh? Aren't you staying a few days?_  
_That was the plan, but… don't you have school tomorrow, anyway?_  
_We could work that out. You can nap while I do the important classes or something and then we can go out in the evening. You could meet Chrono and the others._ Luard stayed silent and Kazuma sighed. _So what's your actual reason?_  
_… I need to talk to some people. While I still have the courage to. And I… I think I learned what I came here to learn. It's time to go home._  
_… if you say so._  
He sounded disappointed, and Luard actually felt his heart tighten a little. Being wanted was still a very new feeling to him. And Kazuma would have had every reason to be bitter.  
_But since he offered… if you want me to and it's possible… maybe I'll come again. I'm very curious about your country; I want to see historical monuments next time._  
Kazuma chuckled.  
_What a nerd… fine. Just wait until I'm on my bed, I don't wanna collapse in the middle of the street when you leave._

 

When Luard stumbled out of his room, still groggy and uncoordinated from getting back into his body, he didn't make more than a couple of steps before a book hit him in the head.  
Unlike him, the book did not fall to the ground; it stayed safely shut even on impact, and calmly flew back to its owner's hand, its hard cover spotless and undented.  
Flat on his back, Luard didn't even find the words to express his confusion.  
“That's what you get for pulling this kind of stunt without warning,” Morfessa said, holding her book to her hip and looking down at him judgingly. “Why is it never anything but extremes with you?”  
Luard stared at the ceiling.  
_Welcome home_ , he thought, and it wasn't even sarcastic.  
“… well? Care to explain?” Morfessa asked once it became obvious that he wasn't going to snap out of it by himself.  
“… I did leave a note?”  
“Yes, that we found _after_ going through the entire castle and threatening to take your door down. You're fixing that yourself, by the way.”  
He winced.  
“I'll deal with it.” He paused. “… I'm sorry for worrying you.”  
Morfessa rolled her eyes, but trying to protest that she wasn't worried was probably below her.  
“So? Did you at least find out anything useful?”  
“… I did, as a matter of fact.” He sat up. “… can you do me a favour?”  
“Are you sure you're feeling lucky enough right now?”  
“You're the one who said I should get out of the castle, right? If you still want me to travel so much, get me another permission to Dragon Empire.”  
A slight smirk spread on her face.  
“Going to see someone, are you? What a lucky guy.”  
“It's not like that,” he mumbled, trying to ignore the part of him that was whispering that it was, in fact, exactly like that, would be like that if he allowed himself. And maybe _that_ was something he needed to trust Shiranui's own choice on, rather than decide on his own that it wasn't worth it, that he wasn't worth it.  
“Isn't it, now? He should hurry on, then.” And before he could question her, she added: “Fine, I'll get you permission. Now go sleep until you can walk without tripping over your own feet. And fix that lock.”

“I did not expect you so early,” Shiranui said as he came out of the gate to meet him, much warmer than the sentry who'd tried to glare him away.  
There was still something tilted off-axis about the way he walked, but it was regular and controlled: a different way of approaching the movement rather than actual limping. He was adapting to the prosthetic leg well, and Luard felt a little trickle of warm satisfaction in his chest.  
This was something he had contributed to. Adapting had been Shiranui's own strength, of course, but he had been able to facilitate it. To give him the means to adapt in this way.  
His contribution to Shiranui's future.  
“… I just wanted to see you,” he said.  
Shiranui smiled, baring his teeth a little.  
“I, uh,” Luard all but stammered, “I went to Earth… like I said… thought you'd want to hear about it.” He paused. “… shit. I should've thought to try and see Kazumi—I could've gotten you some news—”  
Shiranui chuckled.  
“… what?”  
“Why do you think I knew where to direct you? I have talked to Kazumi several times since the battle.”  
“… oh.” He groaned. “That was probably obvious… you know I'm not perceptive,” he added with a sigh.  
“Indeed, you can be blind to your surroundings when you're focused on something,” Shiranui answered, amusement slipping into his words. “It's an endearing trait.”  
Luard glared at him, but there was no actual fire in it.  
“He will probably be disappointed to learn that he missed the chance to meet you, however,” Shiranui added.  
“I didn't think about that…” He sighed, and sagged a little. Shiranui moved forward as if to catch him; he righted himself with a shaky smile, a shiver coursing his back. “I—I'm fine. Anyway… I might go back someday… I can see him then.”  
Shiranui smiled back, but he still offered Luard his hand for support.  
“Let's go inside. You should rest from the trip.”  
Again, Luard shivered. He'd handled Shiranui's body plenty when attaching and tuning the new limbs; why was this different?  
But he was done running away.  
He took Shiranui's hand. The scales were cool under his fingers, and when it closed around his own, the hard beat of his heart wasn't from fear.  
He squeezed Shiranui's fingers lightly.  
“Yes. Let's.”

**Author's Note:**

> ~~And then they kissed~~
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> I WANTED TO WRITE THE REN FIGHT REALLY BADLY BUT UNFORTUNATELY: TIME CONSTRAINTS.


End file.
